If I were a Superhero
by SVU-Obsessed
Summary: Can Sonny be a superhero? We know all about what Jason and Carly and Sonny are going though. But what about Michael? One-shot of his thoughts throughout the night.
1. Michael

Sometimes I wish I was a grown-up.

I think that they have it easy. They know when someone's lying or telling the truth. They know if someone's good or bad. And when they don't like what's going on, they can change things. Like when someone working for Sonny does something bad, he can fire them.

Can I fire my parents?

"So Michael," Dr. O'Donnell asked me when he was examining me. "Who's your favourite superhero?"

I eyed him carefully, because he knew that I wasn't going to say anything, but still asked. I hadn't answered any of his questions. They weren't important. And maybe, if I didn't say anything, there wouldn't be any more bad stuff.

I could have told him not to do the check-up. I was fine. My dad didn't do anything to me bad. AJ. Not Sonny. AJ's my dad, isn't he?

Yeah, he is. But only because Sonny doesn't love me anymore.

* * *

It got even worse when Agent Marshall came in. I didn't know if I was supposed to trust her or not. She hadn't lied to me yet, right? I don't think she had, but I don't know what to believe anymore.

She played that tape for me. Was it a trick? Could Sonny have paid her to make that up? Had he had the tape himself? Or was it AJ? Was Sonny really a good guy? Does AJ really love me? And what about my mom and Morgan? Do they love me?

After Agent Marshall left, I was supposed to go to sleep. But I couldn't sleep. I felt like there were butterflies flapping around in my head, with so many different ideas that I couldn't close my eyes. I was so tired though. I lied down on the sofa and pulled a blanket over me. There was a picture on the wall in front of me. It was a picture of a sunflower. Or maybe a painting. Who cared about the difference though? No one was going to correct me on what I was thinking, were they?

Why couldn't Jason be my dad?

* * *

I wish I could remember being a baby. And that I could see what really happened. And maybe I wouldn't be so confused right now. Because I could really know who loves me. And who used to love me. Maybe if I could have said something then, I would be with someone I love now. Maybe I could have chosen to live with Jason. Because I think Jason loves me, even though he is friends with Sonny. He's my best friend. Why would someone not want to live with their best friend? I would even call him dad if he wanted me to. I would clean up after dinner. And I would go to bed without a fuss. I would be so good if Jason could just be my dad.

I remember in science class last year, they said that twins are made completely the same. AJ and Jason are twins. If they're made the same, wouldn't it kind of be like living with my dad? Maybe Jason could be my dad.

Can kids adopt their parents?

* * *

If I were a superhero, I don't care which one I would be. All I know is that I would want the power to read people's minds. Or maybe their hearts. I could see just how much love they had in their heart for me, and then I wouldn't need to wonder who really loves me. I could know.

How could I know anymore?

* * *

Aunt Courtney came to see me. She offered to bring me ginger snaps. Would you do that to someone you don't love? Offer to bring their favourite cookies? If Aunt Courtney were sick, I would bring her chocolate-chocolate cookies. And I love her.

I can't look at my mom. She looks so sad. And I know that she's sad because of me. But I don't know why. Is she sad because she lied to me and now I know the truth? Is she sad because she had the perfect plan to get rid of me and it didn't work? Is she sad because she really does love me?

How do I know anymore?

* * *

The butterflies were starting to slow down now. And as much as I tried to fight it, my eyes were starting to close. Maybe I could take a little nap, just for a little while. And just before I fell asleep, I couldn't stop thinking.

Does anyone love me anymore?


	2. Sonny

This was originally intended as a one-shot, but I thought of a couple of other characters who might like to be superheroes, so I thought I'd try continuing.

* * *

Sometimes when things start to get hard, I start to feel bad about myself, I run my fingers over the scars on my right palm.

I don't remember getting the scars, but I know they come from when I get upset, from my manic episodes, and they remind me that I could get worse.

That hand always reminded me of pain, of weakness. Until Michael's first day of kindergarten, when he clutched that hand, using it as his shield against the world.

It was at that moment that I realized that my hand wasn't just pain. Even though bad had happened, I could still be strong. Be strong for Michael.

Be his superhero.

* * *

When I was little, when I was locked in the closet, I would hit my head against the wall, so softly that my step-dad couldn't hear, and I would promise that I would never hurt my child. That if I had children, they would always be happy and safe, and no monsters like my step-dad could haunt them.

I broke my promise though. The worst possible monster, AJ, got a hold of Michael. MY son. Not his. And even worse, he had hurt Michael.

I had promised him, and I had broken my promise.

* * *

The kind of pain that I felt when I looked at Michael, just lying there, staring straight ahead, wasn't something that I had felt before. That was a broken heart. It was more than I could handle. It made me sick to my stomach.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Reese asked, coming up behind me. Her hand gently rested on my shoulder, but I quickly shook it off. In the window's reflection, I could see the hurt on her face, but I didn't care. I shook my head without looking back at her.

"Sonny," she whispered. "You're no good to Michael if you're exhausted. He's out for the night. There's an empty bed down the hall. Why don't you lie down? I'll call you if anything happens."

"I'm fine," I replied, my tone less brash that I had hoped.

She put her hand on my shoulder again in an attempt to turn around. I didn't. Still, I could still see her reflection in the window, and her eyes stood out the most.

Pity.

"Sonny," she tried, one last time. "You can't be a superhero."

I didn't want to be a superhero. Just his.

* * *

"Sonny," Michael asked one day when he was six, going through a policeman stage. "Are policemen superheroes?"

"Well," I said carefully, pulling his blankets up. "Some police men are good. And they help save lives. But there are some policemen who aren't good, and they don't help people. They hurt them. But, the ones who save lives are kind of like superheroes."

"Can they fly?"

"No, Michael," I said with a laugh, "They can't fly. But they do something much more important."

"Can they spin spider webs?" he asked with wide eyes.

"Nope. But they protect people. And that's the most important thing someone can do. Now, it's time for bed." I told him, switching off his light and giving him a kiss on the forehead. Just before I shut his door, I heard him say my name again.

"Yeah?"

"I guess you're a Superhero then."

No, I was no superhero. I couldn't protect him. I was nothing more than my step-dad.


End file.
